


d/c drabbles

by nedstark



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Developing Relationship, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Blood, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Slash, Romance, Sweet, Wounds, teeny tiny description of wounds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 06:42:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3800677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nedstark/pseuds/nedstark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas has cradled countless stars in his celestial grip. Dean Winchester is one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	d/c drabbles

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> drabbles, aus, what-ifs, who knows???  
> enjoy!

Cas is running low on mojo so it's up to Dean to dab the disinfectant into his swollen, bloodied wreck of a lip until he has enough power to heal it himself.

Sam not-so-innocently suggests that maybe he's running low on juice because _someone_ swallowed it all.

(Dean blithely jabs his brother in the ribs with his elbow and takes great satisfaction when Sam wheezes and retreats back to the Impala and drives off to god knows where)

It's just the two of them in the not as shabby as usual motel room.

With his knuckles tucked under Cas's jaw and his thumb pressed to his chin, Dean tips the angel's head up and back to squint at the damage.

Cas stares back at him, unusually quiet, and when Dean raises his eyebrows at him Cas looks away, eyes downcast.

He looks strangely vulnerable stripped of his trenchcoat and suit jacket. Less imposing. Not frail or anything like that, hell no. Not if the broad line of his shoulders and back muscles visible through the thin white shirt are anything to go by.

"This'll sting," Dean warns quietly. They're so close and quiet he doesn't need to raise his voice, nor wants to. It's a comfortable quiet, serene even, but with the edge of something more, something unspoken but unneeded to be said just yet. So they don't say anything at all.

Dean has to tilt Cas's head back again. This time, Cas chooses to close his eyes against the impending burn of the disinfectant, not that he'd probably feel it. Dean's also acutely aware of the fact he's now basically cupping the side of Cas's face.

He brings the damp disinfectant soaked gauze and dabs at Cas's bloody lip. Cas doesn't flinch, doesn't react. He _does_ lean into the hand holding his face though and yeah okay Dean's definitely holding Cas's face in his hand by now.

It's nice though, he thinks distantly to himself. He always thought it would be. A nice fit. A perfect fit, like Dean's hands were moulded to perfectly fit Cas's face. He idly lets his thumb stroke Cas's full cheek as he finishes up dabbing the wound. Luckily it doesn't need stitches but it'll leave one hell of a bruise.

Cas still doesn't move, but his eyes drift open just enough for Dean to see those bright, goddamn blue eyes staring back at him and he doesn't even have to think about leaning down and pressing a soft lingering kiss to Cas's other cheek, the one not currently warm under his palm. He can feel Cas curl his fingers in the sleeve rolled up at his elbow. Cas breathes a shaky sigh.

He rubs the stubble on Cas's cheek one more time before letting his hand drop. It feels unusually empty. He's also kinda freaking out at the fact he's not actually freaking out. Progress, Sam would probably call it.

"Thank you, Dean."

"Yeah uh, it's fine, you know? Any time, man." And settles for a safe shoulder squeeze.

He rubs his fingers, thumb against his empty palm. Next time, he hopes Cas doesn't have a busted lip because _goddamn_ that's where he's kissing him next.


End file.
